Do You Find It Happens All The Time?
by Miss Anne Thropy
Summary: Howard gets seriously ill and Vince is forced into a new role that he's unsure of until he reevaluates what Howard and his friendship mean to his life, leading him to suspect that there is a possibility for something more that could happen between them.


_Disclaimer-The Mighty Boosh belongs to Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding and the BBC. Not making any money from this, as is simply for entertainment purposes. Title is from the song "Age of Consent" by Neverending Whitle Lights. _

Do You Find It Happens All the Time

"_I saw you this morning I thought that you might like to know_

_I received your message in full a few days ago_

_Do you find this happens all of the time?_

_Crucial point one day becomes a crime"-Neverending White Lights_

_1-Emotion_

It was a small, pale blue room that they were in; Vince was sitting in an uncomfortable, moulded plastic chair while Howard occupied the only bed. Vince was dressed in clothes that may have once been flashy and glittering, but were now crumpled and stained. His hair was messy and greasy and his pale face looked hollow and bleached out.

He was sleeping, but it was a fitful sleep; the kind that one fell into once there's no energy reserves left; the kind that gave just enough respite to keep on functioning at some level, but not enough to really be called rest. His brows were furrowed and his mouth, always so mobile, was stretched in a thin foreboding line. He was dreaming, and it wasn't a good dream.

Vince woke out of it soon enough, his legs jerking so violently that he nearly fell out of the chair; it was only because he had fairly good reflexes that he caught himself before he hit the floor. Although he was in the right place in case he _did_ get injured, he didn't quite fancy sitting around in casualty for most of the night to get his wounds looked at.

Vince pushed those thoughts away and instead glanced at Howard's still figure on the bed beside him. Logically, he knew that nothing would have changed from the time he had sat down in that chair to the time that he had woken up from his sleep. Vince's eyes darkened to a deeper blue as he took in the sight of a comatose Howard and his face fell into a mask of bewilderment and sorrow once again.

Vince still couldn't figure out how everything had ended up like this; he had gone over the events over and over again, but they didn't seem to yield up any clue or answer. He asked the doctors and the nurses and even they weren't quite sure what the sequence of events should have been. All they knew was that Howard had meningitis and it had to run its course. And even then, things were going to be uncertain. It was too soon to tell and Howard's own lack of self-awareness about his health was another factor that added to the unknown variables. Although the doctors themselves didn't say as much, Vince did pick up enough from the last conversation he had with the head of the ward.

"_He's lucky, that it was caught relatively early," the doctor had told Vince after coming out of Howard's room. Although the hospital staff were sure it wasn't likely that Vince and Naboo would be infected with meningitis, they weren't going to let the two of them in Howard's room for at least a day to make sure it really was safe._

"_Wait...what do you mean 'relatively'? We got him to the hospital as fast as we could!" Vince protested. He would have voiced more complaints if it hadn't been for Naboo grabbing his arm and shaking his head. Although it had galled him, Vince had complied and had clamped his mouth shut._

"_What I mean is that Mr. Moon probably had the symptoms a few days before they were bad enough for him or for you to notice. He probably had a bad headache and didn't think much of it. He probably did the same with neck stiffness." The doctor commented casually as he flipped through the chart he was carrying to consult the details that had been given during the admittance procedure._

_Vince and Naboo looked at each other and Vince swallowed hard. It was true that Howard had been wincing more and taking more pain-killers in the past while. He had also been favouring his neck, but Vince had simply dismissed it as a sign of Howard's imminent old age creeping up. He hadn't wanted to ask if Howard was fine because he didn't want to get sniped at, or drawn into another pointless argument. So he had simply gone his way and let Howard do his own thing until..._

Vince closed his eyes and willed those memories to the back of his mind. Instead, he looked down at his hands and frowned when he noticed the chipped varnish. He focused on the uneven and flaked varnish as he examined all of the angles of the situation, wondering if there was simply something he could have done to change the outcome. Maybe if he hadn't been so self-absorbed and had taken a chance, Howard wouldn't have ended up quite so ill and in the hospital.

"_Maybe if you had been the adult for once, this wouldn't have happened." Naboo had told him flatly when Vince angrily dashed tears of frustration and helplessness away, when the doctor hadn't been so quick to assure them that Howard would be out of the hospital in no time._

_Vince wanted to snap back at that and had opened his mouth to do so, but he knew that whatever he said would be nothing more than a weak excuse. Naboo was right. If he had even tried to meet Howard half-way, then maybe, just _maybe_ their friendship wouldn't have suffered as badly. And maybe, they would have caught the illness sooner and the outcome of Howard's life wouldn't have been under such doubt._

He knew that if Howard...Vince shook his head as if by the motion he could dispel those thoughts and make them fly away into the ether. He wished it were the case, but he knew that they were still there, like black shadows patiently waiting for their turn to spread.

He bit his lip as he let his gaze linger on Howard's pale, clammy looking face. Howard's hair was plastered damply across his forehead and his eyes were mere lines above his now jutting cheekbones. His clavicles poked out of the loose blue gown they have put him in and his arms were still on the coverlet, the intravenous lines snaking into the white, almost translucent looking skin of his wrist and elbow. He'd only been in the hospital for a few days, but already the illness was showing its ravages on Howard's body. Plastic tubes snaked into his nose and mouth, the respirator that they were attached to making an eerie sound that Vince had managed to relegate into the background before. But now was begun to register in his mind again. He didn't like the rhythmic whooshing. It was too...mechanical. It also brought home how ill Howard really was. And that thought made him want to cry. Or run.

He did run for a bit. But the idea of Howard lying there, unconscious and alone brought him right back to the hospital. The idea of Howard dying alone scared Vince. Despite them both being idiots to each other, there were always deep bonds of loyalty between them. No matter how strained their friendship would get, it was still there.

Vince sighed as he got out of the chair and walked over to the window to work out the kinks in his legs and back. He didn't go too far from the bed though. Although he knew that Howard wasn't going to suddenly wake up and leap out of bed, part of him didn't want to let him out of his sight, in case he missed some glimmer of awareness to prove that everything would be fine and back to normal quickly. He thought that was what bothered him the most. The unasked and uninvited interruption of a routine that although rocky, was comfortable and predictable at the same time.

"Howard..." he breathed out the name, as a plea, or a prayer. He wasn't sure. He did it almost unconsciously, but in the end, it didn't matter. Howard was still. Vince forced his lips to form a wobbly smile, but he wasn't sure why he even bothered. Howard couldn't see it and he himself didn't believe it.

When that thought hit him, Vince moved towards the bed and quickly gave Howard's limp hand a small squeeze before heading back to the empty feeling shop and to his empty feeling life.

_2-I've Lost You_

Vince went home slowly. He took the route almost automatically, his mind still on Howard and how ill his friend was; it was just five days ago that they had been sitting in the shop bantering as they always did...how had things changed so fast?

Vince scowled to himself and pulled his jacket tighter around his body. Was he that selfish and self-centered that he didn't notice when his _best_ friend got ill until it was too late? What kind of a person was he? He shook his head and exhaled angrily. Naboo and the doctors had assured him that there was nothing more that he could have really done.

Logically, he knew that they were right. But emotionally, he couldn't keep the feelings of guilt at bay that kept springing up whenever he thought of the situation.

_He had been dead to the world when the loud banging and muffled shouting rudely jerked him out of his unconscious bliss. Groaning, he sat up and shuffled to the door, his feet moving on instinct because his eyes were still half-closed with sleep._

"_What is it?" he managed to mumble as he opened the door a crack to see a put-out Shaman giving him the gimlet eye._

"_It's nearly noon and the shop isn't open, you ballbags, that's what. And you both know I can't have Bollo minding the shop without people getting suspicious." Naboo replied, icily._

_Vince blinked away the last of the sleep and really looked at the shaman._

"_Are you sure? I mean, it's not like Howard to miss a day of work, considering how anal he is." Vince commented as he scratched at the back of his neck._

"_Would I even be here if that titbox was downstairs?" Naboo asked, making a twinge of uneasiness flare up in Vince. He was pretty sure that Howard hadn't been out last night. In fact, he now recalled that Howard had gone to bed early the night before without minimal fuss or conversation on his part. Vince tried to shake the feeling off and turned to look at the other bed in the room; sure enough, Howard was still in bed._

_The uneasiness got worse when Vince moved closer and saw that the normally pale face was flushed a bright pink and the usually wayward mop of hair was damply plastered to his forehead and cheeks. Swallowing hard, Vince reached out and put his hand on Howard's face. He jerked it away a few seconds later with a hiss of shock. Howard was burning up!_

"_What is it?" Naboo asked, nearly making Vince jump in surprise._

"_He's got a really bad fever." Vince replied and reached out again to hopefully wake Howard up to hopefully know what was bothering him. He had only managed to grasp Howard's shoulder and give him a gentle shake when Howard let out a moan of pain as his neck was jostled. Vince was about to have another go when Naboo stopped him._

"_Call an ambulance, Vince." Naboo said to Vince, his eyes deadly serious as he recognized how badly off Howard was._

"_What? Why?" Vince stupidly questioned even though he was already grabbing his mobile and dialling 999._

"_Howard is really ill. He needs to be in a hospital fast." Naboo replied. He looked down at Howard, who had opened his eyes enough for the shaman to see the glassiness that deep delirium or bad acid brought and whispered "Before it gets even worse."_

_Vince didn't hear the rest, since he was busy burbling directions into the phone. How they found the place was something he would wonder about later, since he had managed to work himself up so badly when it had finally registered that Howard was really, seriously ill._

_He had wanted to go in the ambulance with them, but they hadn't allowed it. Not when they weren't quite sure what Howard was ill with. It had been a good thing that Naboo had the magic carpet there and had taken enough pity on his discombobulated state and given him a ride there._

Vince shivered at the memories. Everyone was still telling him that he did well. But he didn't believe it himself. He felt that he should have done more...and it was still bothering him that he was so fucking _helpless._

He'd always managed to save Howard whenever they got themselves into some kind of situation. He'd always had the answers and he'd always been there for Howard at the end of the day; but now...he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do.

He cared about Howard, despite their ups and downs. Howard was his first and only constant friend. He knew that to be true, no matter what they said to each other or how they behaved towards each other. He knew that if Howard went, he would be missing a big part of himself.

When that realisation hit him, it's all he could do to not fall on his knees.

"It's not going to happen. It's not going to happen. It's not going to happen..." Vince muttered this to himself as a litany as he made it to the shop and up the stairs, his footsteps in time with his now wordless chant. He barely registered that Naboo and Bollo were on the couch as he went past them and into the room he and Howard shared. He sank to his own bed and curled up in a ball around one of Howard's old brown cardigans.

He stayed that way until the morning.

_3-A Little Piece_

Vince didn't hurry down the corridors of the hospital like he used to in the early days. There was no point in rushing when everything would more than likely be the same. Besides, he had made friends with the nurses and the doctors and he wouldn't, for the life of him, snub anyone that wanted to say hello, he chatted with everyone he met and tried to be polite; but his heart wasn't really in it.

But he still made the effort. After all, he was the Sunshine Kid and he knew that if he let that mask slip, everything was going to break apart. The last thing he wanted was to fall apart and be unable to be of any use to Howard. He'd already let his friend down so many times. He didn't want to do that again. Not now and not ever.

He lifted his chin and kept on moving down the corridor towards Howard's room. It felt natural to call it that, since it had been three weeks since Howard had occupied it. Vince would much rather have Howard back in their own shared room, but whenever he questioned the doctors about the possibility of taking Howard home, he had gotten non-committal answers enough times that he had stopped asking.

Vince tapped the open door lightly, announcing his arrival to Howard, who was sitting in a more comfortable chair and staring out the window into the dull hospital courtyard below. He was wrapped in a pale blue dressing gown on top of a gown the same colour. He wore slippers of the same colour and Vince itched to get his hands on them do something to make them more interesting. Although they were a vast improvement from what Howard usually wore, they were still too plain.

Howard looked up when Vince came into the room and gave him a small, but warm smile of welcome. Vince liked it, but he still hadn't gotten used to seeing that expression on Howard's face. It brought up all these emotions in him that he couldn't put his finger on and it worried him. He knew that in the course of Howard's illness, things had most definitely changed between them. Not just the dynamic they had, but also the feelings that he _had_ for Howard. And he knew that he had to hold on to them and bury them if he wanted to keep on being the responsible adult that everyone perceived him to be.

Howard didn't suspect how Vince's emotions and feelings had changed. Vince had been careful to keep them locked up carefully whenever Howard got too close to even getting near the surface. As far as the doctors knew, he was the concerned best friend that asked the questions Howard wouldn't approach for some odd reason that Vince wasn't aware of, but left alone, figuring that Howard would tell him when he was ready.

Vince sat down on the bed across from Howard and studied him through his downcast eyelashes. Although he was pale, his skin had a bit of a healthy colour. His face had also started to fill out and soften with the regular hospital meals, making him look less like a corpse than he did at the apex of his illness. Overall, he looked better; less careworn and more like he used to look when they had been in the zoo.

"Alright Howard?" he finally asked, once he is done examining his friend. Howard nodded and wrapped his arms around his middle, making Vince frown in worry.

"No. I'm fine, Vince. Honestly." Howard said quickly.

"Are you sure? Cause I could...Oh wait..." Vince cut himself off and started fumbling with the satchel that he brought with him. Howard watched him as he pulled out several odds and ends: chewed up pencils, a tube of titanium white, a hair-band, a half eaten Flake bar and a dusty packet of bootlaces until he finally let out a triumphant "Hah! Gotcha!" and pulled out a black cardigan and held it triumphantly in front of him before he thrust it at Howard.

Howard opened his mouth and was about to comment on it being the wrong colour, but he couldn't bring himself to snap at Vince. Not when he had such an expression of enthusiastic triumph on his face. Besides, Howard was utterly touched at the fact that Vince had gone and searched out a cardigan for him to wear if he was cold. It was a small gesture, but Howard could appreciate the sentiment behind it.

"Thank you, little man." Howard replied sincerely as he reached out and took it from Vince. He was just about to pull it towards him when his body stiffened. His eyes became unfocussed and he let the sweater drop. He didn't register the small moan of despair that came from Vince as his body began twitching and twisting to the left. He could hear Vince in the background, but he couldn't really respond.

Vince watched his best friend, his mouth open in horror and shock until Howard mumbled something, which snapped him into action. He pressed the nurse's call button and in minutes, he was being herded out of the room as a group of doctors and nurses tended to Howard. He watched them work on his friend; his hands curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms and gritted his teeth in helpless frustration.

He lost track of how long he stood out in the hallway. He stopped wondering about it when the nurses and doctors came out of the room. Vince sighed in relief, but his relief is short lived when the doctor signalled that he wanted to talk to him.

"What is it?" Vince asked, as he tamped down his irritation at once again having his visit with Howard interrupted.

"We want to keep Mr. Moon for a few more days to make sure that the medication he's been on for the past week is the correct one as well as being in the correct dosage." The doctor explained his face serious and earnest as he spoke with Vince, who looked shell-shocked at the news.

"Medication? What medication?" Vince asked in a high, cracking voice full of emotion.

"For the seizures he's been having ever since he recovered from the meningitis." Vince blinked at the calm words. His mouth opened and closed quickly as his brain worked overtime to process the information.

"We didn't want to alarm you with the news. Mr. Moon asked us to not tell you, since it was such a small chance of it happening...he didn't want to worry you." The doctor explained apologetically.

"Is that why you are keeping him here?" Vince whispered, the truth having finally dawned on him.

The doctor nodded. "At first, we thought that he was fine. But a week after he regained consciousness, he started to have these spells, were he would zone out. They were so infrequent we almost didn't catch them at first. We hadn't really decided on medication until he had several serious ones. "

Vince swallowed and tried to keep his head from spinning with the news. Seizures? Why hadn't Howard said anything? Why did his friend feel he had to hide that from him? Vince didn't understand. Howard was his best mate! Why would he feel the need to keep such an important thing from him?

"When did they start?"

The doctor consulted a chart, his eyes fixed on the paperwork as he answered.

"Three days ago."

Vince closed his eyes briefly before he turned and went into Howard's room. He wanted,-no, needed- some answers and he needed them fast.

_4-I read your message and understood every word _

To his own surprise, Vince didn't bring up the issue then. Partly because he didn't have the words to articulate his emotions and partly because Howard was asleep by the time he got back to the room, so he decided the best thing to do was to go home and think things through. He did remember though, to place the cardigan beside Howard on the bed and to gently run his fingertips across his forehead before he walked out with his thoughts in turmoil.

He didn't like feeling this way. But yet, he couldn't put his finger on what was bothering him more about the situation. He didn't know whether it was the fact that Howard now had something else to be awkward and insecure about. Or that he didn't trust his _best friend_ with the information about his condition. The more he mulled it over, the more Vince realised that the second part was the one bothering him the most. They weren't supposed to keep secrets from each other. They knew each other inside out since they had grown up together.

So why had Howard chosen now to keep this from him? Vince chewed on his lip and tried to come up with reasons. He knew that the doctor wasn't lying when he said that Howard didn't want him to worry. It would be like Howard, despite his bluster and aggression, to put Vince's well-being before his. He knew that despite how they appeared to everyone else, they did back each other up when things were going from bad to worse.

Although it was a sweet gesture, he still felt very put-out by Howard's actions. He wanted to shake and yell at Howard and call him a titbox for being so...so...high-handed and so fucking noble. He also wanted to embrace him and assure him that he could handle anything that was thrown at them as long as they were together, crimping and teasing each other through whatever it was.

At that thought, Vince halted in mid-step and nearly fell flat on his face as he examined his thoughts. Yes, he cared for Howard...but he also had to admit that he'd never felt that strongly about _taking_ care of Howard before. And not in the simple taking care of a mate way either. In fact, it was in the vein of wanting to take care of someone that he could wake up to after having a night of passionate romance and still feel safe and comfortable with. The kind of wanting that all the pretty people in clubs hadn't ever managed to arouse in him in all his wanderings.

"Aw...bloody hell." He groaned softly as he somehow made his way up the stairs of the flat and blindly found his way to his and Howard's room.

He was in love with his best mate.

Logically, he already knew that there was a very deep bond between them. But being in l_ove_, actual, honest to goodness _love_, was another concept that he is going to have to really think about.

He took a deep breath before sinking down on Howard's bed, and buried his face into his hands. He didn't think he could see a clear answer for this one. At least not until Howard came back.

So until then, Vince was pretty much going to suffer the agonies of a million possibilities.

Fuck.

0/0/0

Downstairs, Naboo and Bollo were passing the hookah around and didn't even blink when they heard the muffled cursing coming from Vince.

"It's about time the ballbag realized it." Naboo noted casually as he took a hit from the hookah and passed it to Bollo, who only took a good-sized toke and for once didn't say anything about the situation.

"Hope sweet Vince is happy with Harold," Bollo said once the silence had gotten a little too long and heavy between them.

"Howard," Naboo absently corrected before taking another hit.

The room is then silent and almost blue from all the smoke in the air, the stillness occasionally marred by footsteps and thumps coming from the other room.

_5-Now, I'm not the type to tell you_

"Howard?" Vince asked, breaking the silence that had fallen on the shop. It was the middle of the afternoon and it was their quietest time. Vince had been pretending to read a magazine for the past couple of hours, while Howard had been attempting to finish the crossword from that morning's paper. Vince knew that his friend wasn't having that much luck, since Howard's biro had been tapping out a tuneful rhythm for most of the afternoon. The soft scratching sound of him filling in answers came very few times and Vince had to wonder if it's a new thing, or if Howard was always that slow at filling out the crosswords.

Vince had to admit that if he had been paying the kind of intense attention to his friend before, he would have already known the answer. Just like he wouldn't have to wonder whether the spells of blankly staring out the window are a symptom or have always been there. Howard has done that about three times alone in that morning as he was sitting behind the counter. Luckily when someone had actually bought something, Vince had been closer and had taken care of the customer, giving Howard time to come back to himself, which he did quickly. But Vince could still see that there was some lingering confusion to Howard that the other man tried to cover up. Vince though, could see clearly through the mask of nonchalance that Howard put on and once again nursed the hurt that Howard hadn't trusted him enough to share the information about his health. He pushed that old resentment aside as he prepared for his talk with Howard, since it was now or never for him to be able to bring it up.

"Yes, little man?" Howard finally replied, his biro pausing its tapping as he looked up from the newspaper.

"Why didn't you tell me about the seizures?" Vince winced the minute the words were out of his mouth. That _hadn't_ been what he had meant to say! He felt like a complete idiot at the moment, but there was no way of taking the words back.

Howard himself stiffened at the blunt question and Vince was, for a second, worried that Howard would either bluster his way through it or completely ignore the subject altogether. His fears started to come true when the silence that had fallen between them stretched out longer and longer until Vince opened his mouth to make some kind of excuse and was cut off by Howard.

"Was it going to make a difference if I had?" Howard asked in a careful and controlled voice.

"No. I'm not treating you differently because of it, am I?" Vince countered.

"It seems like it." Howard replied, his voice eerily calm, making Vince get even more on edge. Howard wasn't always that calm. He yelled. He was loud and sometimes blustered when they argued. He never maintained that much control over his emotions and it was scaring Vince.

"It's starting to make me wonder if there's something else behind it. Maybe perhaps that you're setting me up for something." Howard continued in that same preternaturally calm voice.

"NO! That's not it at all!" Vince shouted, throwing his magazine across the shop as he leapt from his seat and bounded over to the counter where Howard still sat.

"I'm doing this, I'm asking this because I care, you berk!" Vince shouted, grabbing Howard's cardigan lapels and pulling the other man closer. "I know that I haven't been a good friend before. And I was an utter titbox before. But I care about you, Howard. You're my best mate! You could have trusted me, instead of keeping it from me! You know I wouldn't have done that to you!"

"I did it because I was scared, all right?" Howard finally mumbled out as he put his hands over Vince's and pulled them away from his cardigan. "When they told me, I didn't want to believe it. If I didn't say it out loud, it wouldn't exist, right? That was why. And I didn't want to see pity when you looked at me, I'd gotten used to the contempt; but pity? I couldn't take that. Not from you."

Vince blinked back the hot wash of tears that suddenly filled up his eyes and put his hands on Howard's shoulders to make the other man stay still.

"Howard...I'm really sorry. I...I was too busy being a fucking idiot. I...I never meant for it to get so bad between us. I...want to make it up to you though, I swear." Vince pleaded quietly. Howard looked down at his face and shook his head, his expression one of pure scepticism that nearly broke Vince's heart and made him realise how much their relationship had suffered the past little while.

"Why do you want to do that now? What's changed? Is it because of me getting sick? Is that it? Or is it just an act of charity to make you feel better?" Howard hissed, pulling away from Vince. But Vince wasn't letting him go and instead, both of them ended up pressed against the counter with no way to escape the situation.

"It's because I love you, alright? Because when you were sick, I realised that even though we're both idiots and we both fuck up and sometimes, we're not even civil to each other, we still do shit for each other. You save me; I save you. That's the way it always is. No matter what happens, you're the only one I can rely on and I'm the one that you can rely on. And when you were sick and we didn't know if you would pull through, I knew I was being an utter berk. I also knew that if you left...I would not only be lost, I would lose my best friend and the only person that I really love in the entire world." Vince finished, his voice trailing off into nothingness. It was true and even though he hadn't expected to have revealed so much in such a dramatic manner, he wasn't going to take it back, ever. Even if Howard yelled at him and called him a ballbag and told him to get the hell away from him. There was no power on earth that was going to change what he felt about his best mate. He wasn't ashamed and even though it might hurt if Howard didn't really feel the same way about him; at least he had spoken the entire truth.

The silence fell between them and stayed like an unwelcome visitor; neither of them had moved after Vince had finished his monologue. It was then that Vince realised how close he and Howard were standing to each other. He was so close that he could see the exact colour of Howard's irises: a soft brown that got lighter as it got closer to the pupil. Why hadn't he noticed that before? Yes, Howard's eyes were small, but they also were an inviting warm colour that was quite pretty in its own right.

His mouth too, was actually quite kissable. Although Howard was usually frowning about something or other, when he did smile, it was an inviting smile that usually warmed Vince up with its rare appearances. It was that train of thought that led him to lean closer to Howard and press his lips upon Howard's own lips in a soft, chaste kiss.

Howard stiffened and didn't pull away, but he also didn't participate in the kiss. He let Vince do all his exploring, sucking and tasting until he had his fill before he gently pushed him away.

He looked down at Vince, who still had his lips parted open and was panting slightly. His usually pale face was flushed and he looked...so damned good that Howard was tempted to give in at that exact moment.

At least that had been his intention before Vince pressed himself closer to Howard. The expression on Vince's face was one of such hopeful, carefully guarded hope that Howard knew he couldn't hold out. Not when Vince had been so brutally honest with his emotions. That declaration of love was probably the most honest thing that Vince had said to him that past year and that had to count for something.

Even though it was the advent of an illness and side-effects that brought it all out, the naked need and sheer honesty that Vince was showing changed his mind. He had toyed with the possibility of them being more than just mates, but had always quashed that thought ruthlessly. Especially when Vince would pull his usual self-centered crap.

At the possibility of it being a prank, Howard studied Vince carefully. The flush was still there, as was the pleading expression. That could possibly be faked, but the raw vulnerability that peeked out at the edges of Vince's gaze wasn't something that could be faked.

In fact, that was the something that made Howard pull Vince back against himself and return the kiss with much more alacrity than he had shown before. Although he hadn't much experience, his eagerness and intent more than made up for that lack.

"I take it that you return the sentiment," Vince commented after a few more silent bouts of kissing, where Vince had given tactful pointers to benefit both of them.

In return, Howard only smiled and bent his head to give him another kiss.

Maybe Vince had grown up enough to be in a full time relationship. Maybe he had too.

Howard didn't know for sure.

And from the looks of it, neither did Vince.

They would just have to figure it out, one step at a time.

End.


End file.
